Very Good Luck in This Sort of Situation
by pyrebi
Summary: The Doctor, Rose, and Jack find themselves at the tender mercies of yet another species Jack has managed to offend. Get captured, make brilliant escape, celebrate. Lather, rinse, repeat.


**A/N:** A Nine, Rose, and Jack story, and my first foray into the Doctor Who fandom. Please forgive this little American newbie for inaccuracies. (I haven't seen Torchwood, either, I'm sorry!) Anyway, I had lots of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy the read. Thanks for checking out my fic!

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**Very Good Luck in This Sort of Situation**

_A Captain-Jack-Gets-Us-All-Into-Trouble-Again Story_

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"Not very friendly here, are they?" Jack asked, pursing his lips a bit.

"Oh, the Punakis very friendly, usually. They just don't take kindly to people propositioning their religious leaders," the Doctor responded in a very dry tone.

Jack shrugged as best he could. "Hey, man sees a pretty lady, what's he gonna do?"

"Shut up and mind his own business, remembering he's on a foreign planet and knows absolutely nothing of the status and customs?" the Doctor suggested.

Rose, voice muffled where she had her face pressed against the Doctor's shoulder, chimed in, "'Sides, he di'n't turn out to be a lady a' all."

"Didn't matter to me. He's the one who got all pissy about it, Mr. His Eminence the High Priest Stick-in-His-Ass," Jack said, trying to shrug again. "You know, this is starting to get uncomfortable."

The three of them were being held in a dank prison cell (and really, why were all prison cells dank? Would it kill a species to once in a while have an above-ground prison with proper drainage and maybe some decent lighting and a little paint?), awaiting whatever punishment His Eminence the High Priest Stick-in-His-Ass deemed fit. The Doctor and Rose were shackled to the far wall, where they sat huddled together because Rose hadn't dressed appropriately for capture and imprisonment today and she was absolutely freezing, thank you so very much, _Captain_.

Speaking of whom, Captain Jack Harkness was spread-eagled on a large slab in the center of the room, stripped naked, and had all four appendages and his throat tied down by some odd fibrous vine that seemed to be _growing_. Well, at least Jack thought so, because he didn't remember that tendril being quite so far up his thigh fifteen minutes ago.

"So, got a plan to get us out of this, Doctor?" Jack asked hopefully.

The Doctor gave a noncommittal grunt.

"'S really cold," Rose muttered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, which were breaking out in gooseflesh. "What're they tryin' to do, give us hypothermia?"

"No worries, Rose. I've got very good luck when it comes to situations like this." Twisting his head, Jack was just able to see the pair behind him out of the corner of his eye. "There was this one time, I was set up to be executed at dawn, so I ordered four hypervodkas for my last meal—"

"—and I woke up in bed with both of my executioners. Nice couple. They keep in touch. Can't say that about most executioners," the Doctor and Rose deadpanned in unison.

Jack gave an embarrassed grin. "Heard that one before, huh?"

"Yes."

Silence reigned for a few moments. In the background, Jack could hear the chains holding his friends rattling quietly. He concentrated on the vine wrapped around his right wrist. It didn't _look_ like it was moving... He picked a mole on the skin of his inner forearm as a gauging point. Sure enough, the vine inched closer and closer to the dark spot until it covered it completely. "Ha!"

There was a loud clatter. "What is it?" the Doctor asked in a vaguely panicked voice.

"I _knew_ this thing was moving!" Jack exclaimed.

Rose shook her head and sighed. "Scared us half to death. Though' someone was comin'."

"Sorry." Jack glanced down at a table next to his slab. Lips thinning, he noted a very large pair of shears lying there, crusted in what looked suspiciously like dried blood. "What do you suppose those are for?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

A scraping sound preceded the Doctor's answer of "Probably exactly what you're afraid they're for."

"I stand by that thing about them not being very friendly, then. Got a plan yet, Doctor?" Jack queried in something that was much closer to a squeak than he'd like to admit. When there was no response, he craned his neck to look behind him again.

What he saw were two empty pairs of manacles and fingers lowering the grate in the floor back to its normal position. Rose and the Doctor were gone.

"Doctor? _Doctor!_ _Rose!_ Don't _leave_ me!" Jack hissed towards the grate. "I'm sorry I made fun of the sonic screwdriver! Can't you use it on the vines or something? Rose! Doctor! Come _on!_"

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Those bastards.

Those no-good, cliquey, free agent bastards.

Nobody abandoned Captain Jack Harkness to imminent castration! And after he'd saved Rose's life, too! Okay, granted, his little (accidental) stunt with the nanogenes was the reason they'd been in 1941 in the first place, but still. See if he ever showered affections on _them_ again.

Jack struggled against the vines holding him, but the more he resisted, the tighter they became. And Rose had been right: it _was_ cold in here. His teeth started chattering.

B-b-bastards.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard the far-off clank of a door opening, but he figured it had been an hour at least. He lifted his head weakly as four natives scurried into his cell. One of them picked up the shears, and Jack gritted his teeth. "You think you could sharpen those things before you use them? Or sanitize 'em, at the very least?"

To his surprise, the robed figure began hacking away at the vines (which had, by this point, grown up Jack's arms and legs all the way to his torso). As soon as he was freed, all four Punakis hoisted him onto their shoulders, chittering amongst themselves nervously. Jack watched, curious, as they carried him outside and up towards the temple. A golden figure with huge multicolored wings stood watching his ascent.

Jack had never been a human sacrifice before. If he survived this ordeal, it would be an excellent chapter in his memoirs, right in between "How I Met This Very Eccentric Alien and His Trophy Companion, who Later Abandoned Me to My Doom" and "How I Revenged Myself on the Doctor and Rose for Abandoning Me to My Doom." And he had a plan for that whole revenge thing, too. It went something like this—Step One: Survive. Step Two: Escape. Step Three: Find a timeship. Step Four: Find the TARDIS somewhere in time/space. Step Five: Revenge. Step Six: Gloat.

They were passing row after row of kneeling Punakis. Finally, near the top, His Eminence the High Priest Stick-in-His-Ass was crouched with his face against the ground, mumbling praises. Jack noticed that the four natives carrying were now trembling. Ever so gently, they lowered him to the feet of the golden figure before beating a hasty retreat back down the steps.

Half-dazed, Jack looked up into the face above him. And then blinked. And then looked again. "Rose?'

Rose glanced down at him and winked before looking out over the assembled Punakis again. In her deepest, most impressive voice, she bellowed, "This I good. I am much pleased with the return of my consort. I shall not smite you today."

Jack looked back. Mass trembling from the Punakis.

"Come, consort!" Rose bawled. She turned and Jack could now see the TARDIS behind her. He scrambled to his feet and followed her, noting that the wings were actually huge pieces of painted fabric connected to her wrists and ankles. Rose unlocked the door to the TARDIS and Jack slipped in behind her, shutting off the Punak homeworld.

The Doctor beamed at them from the console and Rose burst into laughter. "It worked! They actually thought I was the God-Lady Lobamalo!"

"Lobamala," the Doctor corrected good-naturedly.

"I'm a little confused," Jack spluttered. "What just happened there?"

Rose whipped around and grabbed his hands, practically jumping in excitement. "It would've been too conspicuous to sneak you out, what with you bein' a known sexual deviant an' all. So the Doctor told me they've got this legend on this world, yeah? That one day, a great blue egg would appear on the temple steps, an' out would come the God-Lady Lobamalo, Lobamala, whatever! And the God-Lady has this consort, right, and he's a trickster force, always up to mischief. But _she's_ the main deity. And they're s'possed to follow her orders _exactly_ or she'll destroy the planet!"

Jack blinked. "So...you just impersonated a _god_ and scared an entire civilization out of their wits by making them think they'd imprisoned your consort, me, and you were going to blow them all up unless they returned me?"

"Pretty much," the Doctor shrugged, and Rose nodded emphatically.

A huge grin broke out on Jack's face. "That is pretty much the coolest rescue I've ever heard of. I take everything back." He fingered the golden and winged dress Rose was wearing. "Where'd you get this?"

"TARDIS wardrobe," she replied offhandedly. "It's got _everything_." She dropped his hands suddenly and blushed, looking away. "Speakin' of which, maybe you should put some clothes on."

"And we'll go get you a hypervodka to celebrate," the Doctor added with a roll of his eyes.

As he started off down the corridors of the TARDIS, Jack decided this was definitely going in his memoirs: "How I Spent Most of the Day Stark Naked, Became a Goddess's Consort, and then Got Totally Pissed in Commemoration."

If _that_ wasn't an intergalactic bestseller in the making right there, Jack didn't know what was.


End file.
